


Flub

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Gen, Useless, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:48:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28536150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Harry tries.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Flub

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He probably should’ve just commed. Shouldn’t have left his station. _The captain’s chair._ But the ship’s parked and not going anywhere any time soon, and all other stations reported everything in working order. The enormous stretch of anomalous space-time readings that cocooned around them out of nowhere hasn’t put them in _immediately_ danger, not yet. Just a lot more soon-to-be danger than Harry feels qualified to handle. Of course he has to wake the captain—can’t even settle for Commander Chakotay, who would be _slightly_ less scary to wake up in the middle of the simulated-night. Harry’s hoping the courtesy of showing up in person will soften the blow. He still hesitates every few steps. It’s just his luck that this would happen during _his_ command. 

Maybe he’ll wake the captain up and she’ll remind him he’s in charge and give him that cold, calculated glare reserved solely for _people in her way._ And he’ll get the distinct feeling that he should’ve handled the situation on his own and let her have her beauty rest. 

Or maybe she’ll be furious he took the extra few seconds to get reports from other stations rather than leaping out of his chair the second the readings showed up. By the time he’s outside her door, waiting for the computer to announce him, he’s still not sure he’s doing the right thing. 

But it’s too late to go back. Then the doors slide open, revealing his illustrious captain in all her off-duty glory. Her shoulder length hair has fallen out of its usual meticulous bob, instead frayed and tangled, likely from fretting in sleep. Her subtle makeup’s dulled but still ever-so-slightly perceptible—it was a busy day shift, and it’s no wonder she didn’t take the time to rub it off. She deserved, _needed_ sleep. She’s wearing a long, light-pink silk robe in lieu of her uniform, and it both clings tightly to her toned body in places and drapes gracefully away in others—it’s easily one of the prettiest things he’s ever seen on her. They’ve shared a few parties, a few away missions over the years, but it’s still strange to see her out of uniform at all, and this is the _most_ out she could be. She’s still strong, but also softer, and most of all looks like she should be curled up in a big, comfortable bed and not stressing over a starship. 

Guilt mingles with Harry’s anxiety. Captain Janeway opens her mouth, only to cover it with one hand as she yawns. Harry politely waits it out, cheeks heating worse and worse. Then she murmurs by way of greeting, “Harry.” Her deep voice is raspy with exhaustion, and her blue eyes aren’t quite open all the way. 

He opens his mouth but doesn’t even get as far as she did. His combadge beeps. He stiffens, while Janeway glances down at it and then nods for him to answer. He slaps it so hard he actually hurts himself.

“Kim here.”

 _“I have finished resetting the sensor array,”_ Ensign Vorik reports, his level tone unmistakable. Harry blinks, instantly confused.

“I didn’t order that.”

_“Lt. Torres began the reset during alpha shift. It was still running when I reported for duty. I assumed you had read the day’s engineering report.”_

The blush intensifies. Harry hadn’t gotten there yet. Of course he reads every report that comes through the chair when he’s in it, but given how slow the night shift usually is, he tends to spread them out. He was only a third of the way through the total list when the ensign at tactical reported the anomalous orb all around them.

And then he abruptly realizes how exactly the day shift failed to notice such a dangerous sphere up ahead. It wasn’t actually there at all.

Before Harry can fumble out an answer, Janeway asks, “Are sensors showing anything wrong with my ship?”

 _“Not that I’m aware of, Captain.”_ Vorik answers, not missing a beat over her sudden voice. _“I reported to the bridge to run a final diagnostic and found nothing amiss there aside from Ensign Kim’s absence. Will that be all?”_

Janeway answers for both of them, “I think so.” And then the line goes dead, and it’s just the two of them standing there, Harry feeling smaller by the second. A painful bout of silence passes before Harry splutters, “Captain, I’m so sorry, I thought there were huge space-time rifts all around us, so I assumed—”

He’s interrupted by another yawn and her hand reaching out to clasp his shoulder. It has the effect of instantly centering him, like her attention always does. She gives him strength, even when he’s shrinking away. She assures him, “It’s alright,” like it’s a simple mistake anyone could’ve made. Except everyone else probably would’ve thought to check the sensors before waking the captain up after a long, hard day. There doesn’t seem to be any maliciousness in her eyes when she tells him, “Good night, Harry.”

He weakly manages, “Good night, Captain.”

She steps back, and the doors swing shut of their own volition, leaving Harry painfully alone with his embarrassment. 

He walks back in shame, desperately hoping no on tells Tom or B’Elanna in the morning—they’ll never let him hear the end of this one.


End file.
